A Thousand Patronuses
by belladonna803
Summary: This little fic is an HBP missing moment, so beware of spoilers, folks. It directly follows the events at the end of Chapter 24, and contains no angst, no tears, and no violence. Well, unless you count the threat of a BatBogey hex. Enjoy!


A Thousand Patronuses

By Belladonna803

Author's Note: This is my version of the events that immediately followed Harry and Ginny's first kiss. I know I'm only one of a multitude of people who got to that moment, and just squealed, squeaked and screamed when Mr. Potter kissed the lovely Ms. Weasley. This little fic is in tribute to them, and to the genius that is J. K. Rowling. Much thanks to my beta Jamsel, whose careful editing and constructive criticism made this a better story. Thanks also to my friends Kelly and Laurie, for putting up (and even encouraging!) my incessant HP ramblings.

_Originally published on Checkmated._

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The Fat Lady's portrait swung closed with a small thud. "So," started both Harry and Ginny, and they laughed together, each blushing slightly in the afternoon light that streamed through the windows in the seventh floor corridor.

"You first," said Ginny with a brilliant smile.

Harry couldn't help but smile back. With surprising ease, he reached down and took Ginny's hand, marveling at how comfortable, how normal, and how good it felt. "So, er, fancy a walk?" he asked, squeezing her fingers gently.

She squeezed back in reply and tugged him toward the stairs, flipping her long hair over her shoulder as she went. Harry took the opportunity to gaze at her while they walked. Ginny was very petite and delicate in appearance, rather like a china doll. But he knew her spirit belied her small form. Not only was she outgoing and exuberant, but she was incredibly talented on the Quidditch pitch, and if that wood-splintering crash into the commentator's podium was any indication, she was powerfully strong as well. _Not to mention bold, funny, and very pretty_, he thought, chuckling to himself. Her face still carried a pink tinge, and it suddenly struck him that his rather mad act of spontaneity in the common room might have been a bit selfish. He immediately felt guilty.

"Listen," he said, stopping at the bottom of the fourth floor staircase and turning to face her, while she was still standing on the step above him. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you back there. It _was_ rather rude of me to just _do_ that, without asking you properly."

To his utter bewilderment, she tilted her head back and laughed, shaking her hair and making it seem as alive as she was. "Harry, only you would apologize for kissing a girl who obviously _wanted_ to be kissed." Pulling him closer, she grinned. "For the record, it was quite lovely, and in urgent need of repeating."

His neck and chest suddenly felt very warm as she curled her fingers into his shirt collar and drew his lips down to hers. Seemingly of their own accord, his hands found their way to the small of her back; her silky hair caressing his wrists and forearms. Her mouth was soft and sweet, and his skin began to tingle when he felt her tongue lightly, hypnotically, slowly brushing his. In that moment, he felt invincible, as though he could have conjured a thousand patronuses. The power of the Felix Felicis potion had _nothing_ on Ginny Weasley.

A twittering sound broke them out of their reverie, and Harry looked around to see a group of third year Ravenclaw girls gaping and giggling at them on the fourth floor landing. Ginny rolled her eyes but looked amused. "Oh, for heaven's sake! Let's go outside, it's a gorgeous day. Maybe we'll be lucky and find a place _without_ an audience."

When they reached the large oak front doors, Harry opened them for her, but made sure not to assist or lead her through. She must have sensed his reticence, because she laughed and wrapped her arm around his waist, guiding him through the doorway with her. Ginny had been right. The sky was bright blue, and virtually cloudless, with a light breeze that glided toward them from across the lake.

Slipping her hand back into his, Ginny led him toward the Quidditch pitch. "You would have been proud of your team today, you know," she said confidently, glancing up at him with a smile. "Dean worked well with Katie. And Demelza scored so many times I thought for a moment that she was actually _conjuring_ Quaffles."

He laughed with her and enjoyed the sound of it, their voices mingling, complementing one another. "Wish I could have seen it," he said wistfully. "Bet you were brilliant."

"Well," she said teasingly, "I'm no _Harry Potter_, but I got the job done. I actually saw the snitch three times before catching it, but we weren't ahead by enough points to grab it and still win the cup. I didn't have a problem distracting the opposing Seeker, though."

He looked at her, but couldn't read the expression she wore. "Cho is, well, she's nice enough, but…" He drifted off, not quite sure how to finish the thought he wanted to convey. Harry knew that the whole Cho debacle was a sore spot. He wanted to make it clear that any attachment he might have felt for Cho had completely diminished.

"Don't worry Harry," said Ginny with a serene smile. "I know you're not interested in her anymore. For quite some time now your attention has been directed, shall we say, locally, Mr. Obvious?"

He frowned. "Hey," he paused, watching her chin wobbling with barely suppressed mirth. "Mr. Obvious?"

"Oh please," she said, openly laughing at him now. "It wouldn't have been more noticeable if you'd taken out an advertisement in the Daily Prophet! 'Ride in my train car, Ginny. You're so funny, Ginny. Come to Hogsmeade, Ginny.' And don't think I haven't noticed how many bludger hits you've been taking during Quidditch practice, either."

Harry spluttered sheepishly. How could he have thought that she wouldn't notice his increasing interest in her? She always seemed so perceptive where he was concerned at other times, so why not in that respect as well? Hadn't it been Ginny who got him to open up in the library last year when he'd desperately wanted to talk to Sirius? Hadn't it also been Ginny who'd told him how stupid he was acting after the attack on Mr. Weasley? He shook his head at his own foolishness. _Of course she knew; I can't believe I assumed otherwise._

"For Heaven's sake, Harry, you _hugged_ me! _You_. Hugged _me_." Her eyes carried a mischievous twinkle, and he couldn't help but smile. Her expression softened a bit as she continued. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist taking the mickey a bit. Finally getting noticed by the person you fancy has a way of going to your head." Ginny stopped walking and turned to face him, taking both of his hands in hers. "I certainly have no right to tease you, what with all of the silly things I've done to get your attention over the years."

Harry laughed and drew her into his embrace, allowing her scent to fill his senses. The monster that lurked in his chest growled possessively. "Ginny," he said playfully, "I'm not going to stand here and mock you, however much you might deserve it. Embarrassing though your, er, _attempts_ were, particularly the valentine poem, I was flattered all the same."

She bit her lip repentantly and buried her face against his chest, giggling. "Oh, Merlin, Harry! I'm so sorry for that bloody singing valentine!" She pulled back and stared up at him, "you must've thought I was completely mental!"

"No, no," he said trying hard not to crack up. "It was quite clever, really. How'd it go, again?" He sniggered when she narrowed her eyes.

"I am _not_ going to recite it for you! Absolutely not! I don't even remember it, anyway," she said, looking away and smiling.

"Yes you do," said Harry, who tugged her along toward the stairs that lead up into the Quidditch stands. "You're really quite the poet, you know. You could write fluffy little valentines for Fred and George to sell in their Wonder Witch collection. Or maybe a line of singing cards—"

Harry suddenly felt himself spun around and pinned against the wall of the stairwell, Ginny's wand pointed at his nose. "Keep talking, funny man. I thought you weren't going to mock me? One flick of my wrist and you'll be bogey-fodder." His chest tingled where her left hand was splayed across it, and he found that the air had somehow gotten both thinner and much, much warmer. He'd never been so aroused in his life.

"You wouldn't hex a man in glasses, would you?" he croaked, staring at her mouth, and the way the corner of her lips curled up into a knowing smirk.

She paused for a beat, as if to ponder his question, and then lowered her wand. "You're lucky I like you so much." She licked her lips and raised her eyebrows at him, still smirking.

"Very lucky," Harry said huskily, and for the third time, their lips met. It was as though her mouth had some sort of mesmerizing gravitational pull; he couldn't seem to get enough. With his back still against the wall, his hands brought her hips closer, bumping against his own. The low growling sound she made caused a jolt of electricity in his abdomen. After what he considered an entirely too short moment, she broke their kiss, panting and clutching at his shirt.

"Let's go and sit down. I think we both could use some air." Still holding the front of his shirt in her fist, she pulled him up the last flight of stairs and out into the stands. Though the bright sunlight was blinding, Harry's eyes were riveted on the witch in front of him. Dreams of kissing Ginny had been invading his slumber for months, but they couldn't hold a candle to the reality of actually acting out his fantasies. Both he and the monster inside him were of one mind: _I'm going to snog the hell out of her every chance I get, if she'll let me_.

He pulled her down into the seat next to him and drew her close; delighting in the way the breeze played with her hair and tickled his neck. Harry slid his hand under her chin and lifted her face toward his. There was something that he desperately needed to ask her. "Ginny," he began, suddenly feeling nervous, "as you've said, it's no secret that I've grown rather fond of you over the past year. But I want you to know that it's not just because you're pretty, because you _are_, pretty, I mean. Along with that, you're also dead clever, and wickedly funny. Your Quidditch skills are phenomenal, and let me just state for the record that I _never_ want to meet the business end of your wand. But that's just the beginning, really. You're also brave, and loyal, and honest. You stand up for people like Neville, or Luna, when other people want to put them down. You're a good friend, Ginny."

He paused for a moment, and steeled his nerves before continuing. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is, well, I fancy you for like, a million reasons. Will you be my girlfriend?"

He held his breath as he waited for her answer. Her face was pink, and her eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him. She reached up and ran her fingers through the hair at his temple, tucking an unruly lock of it behind his ear. "I can honestly say that nothing would make me happier, Harry," she said softly.

He nodded with a hungry smile, and was once again drawn to her mouth. Over and over they kissed. Her lips, her tongue, the sweet taste of her; it all intoxicated him, making the whole world around them slide out of focus. How had he lived so long without this?

Her fingernails grazed his scalp, sending very pleasant chills down his spine. Despite the fact that she was now sitting in his lap, he couldn't seem to get her close enough for his satisfaction. His hands groped at her back and hips, trying to find a solution to the problem, while his lips trailed along her neck. Her voice broke through the fog that surrounded him.

"Mmmm, Harry, maybe we should, er, take a break for a mo'." He reluctantly pulled back to see her staring up at him, her face flushed, her lips plump and red. They were both breathing erratically, and Harry noticed that a few of the buttons on her shirt had come undone. Had he done that? Even though he was mortified at the thought of taking advantage of her, he couldn't seem to stop staring at those two mounds of flesh that peeked out at him from behind her bra. _Wow. I'm looking at her bra_.

"Enjoying the view, there, are you?" said a voice, and he looked up to see Ginny grinning at him.

"Oh—well, I, er—so sorry—didn't mean--" he said quickly, but she just shook her head and covered his mouth with her hand.

"There's no need to apologize, Harry. I'm not embarrassed. But," she said, sliding off of his lap and buttoning her shirt, "I think maybe we should head back in and get something to eat. I'm starved."

He nodded and smiled, relieved that she wasn't upset. Carefully adjusting the hem of his shirt, he linked his hand with hers, interlacing their fingers. _What a day it's been_, he thought as they made their way back to the castle.

When Harry had woken up that morning, his mind still swimming with images of Ginny in his arms, he never would have imagined that by the day's end he would have spent the entire afternoon like that. The monster in his chest was fully awake and already contemplating tonight's dreams, which would be filled with silky red hair, soft, sweet lips, and the purr of Ginny's voice. _And Ginny's bra_, he said to himself, grinning. _Definitely Ginny's bra_.


End file.
